


try to set the night on fire

by Abagail_Snow



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Mutant Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5054236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abagail_Snow/pseuds/Abagail_Snow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Girl on Fire, she's called. If they only knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	try to set the night on fire

She can't sleep.

Katniss pushes the blankets down to her ankle. Prim protests with a hazy grunt beside her, her sleeping fists fighting to hold onto the sheets.

The room must be 50 degrees, but Katniss's skin is boiling.

She dabs at her damp forehead with the sleeve of her nightshirt. A fever, she concludes, though she doesn't feel ill.

She turns restlessly onto her side, then to her other. Prim pretends that it doesn't bother her, but after five sleepless nights, Katniss knows that her sister's patience is wearing thin. She slips out of bed and creeps around the half wall that separates their bedroom from the rest of their living space.

The house is eerie in this light, but Katniss has grown accustom to it. She curls up on the threadbare couch. Stares into the dying embers of the fireplace. A wet log crackles, sending out a burst of sparks like a firework.

She's drawn closer, bracing herself for the wall of heat that never comes. She reaches past the hearth and cups a glowing coal in her palm, holds it just past her nose to inspect the bright heat.

"Katniss what are you doing?" Prim shrieks from the other side of the room.

Katniss comes back to herself and throws the ember back into the fireplace as if she's been burned, but when she wipes the soot from her hands, the skin is smooth and untouched.

......

"Why do you suppose someone would do that to themselves," Gale says, scowling at the small screen playing behind the counter of Greasy Sae's stand. Greasy Sae hates the Capitol, but she sure loves their entertainment programming.

Katniss scoops another spoon full of stew into her mouth then follows Gale's gaze. A woman with wings floats around an opulent set to interview contestants on some sort of game show. She isn't actually flying though. The flapping wings are only enough to propel her on a pair of roller skates. 

"These genetic modifications are getting out of hand," Gale grumbles. "What's the point of it? We've got so much money; we don't know what to do with it. I know, I'll buy a tail, or a new face, or I'll make myself six inches taller. What a joke." He shakes his head and pushes his unfinished stew aside. "If they've got too much money out there, why don't they just send it elsewhere? To people who actually need it?"

Katniss doesn't want to seem indifferent, but all she can really do is shrug.

.....

Katniss places the iron in the fire and spreads her wrinkled dress across the kitchen table. It's not her dress, really. It's her mother's, and it's probably the nicest dress she owns, which is why she wears it for the reaping ceremony.

Katniss looks back towards the bedroom where her mother scrubs Prim's fingernails with soapy water that's too cloudy to be considered clean. Prim's face is stoic. Lips pressed flat. Jaw so tense that her round cheeks suck in. But terror flashes in her eyes, giving her away.

"You won't get picked, Prim," Katniss says, crossing the room to tug on one of her braids. "Your name's only in there once."

Prim's chin trembles, her glossy eyes overflowing at the rim of her lids. "What about you?" she says.

Katniss takes a deep breath. "I'll be fine," she says, although she really can't be sure. "The odds have been in my favor, as they will be for you."

She goes to retrieve the iron with a heavy wool mitt, then goes to iron her dress. Her nerves are starting to get the best of her and she can't stop her hands from shaking.

Her mother steps behind her, touches her shoulder gently. "Here, let me," she says softly.

"I've got it," Katniss says through gritted teeth. Her sharp strokes are only making the wrinkles worse.

"Please."

Her hand slips and she fumbles with the iron, nearly dropping it on her feet. She catches it though, in her bare hands. Her mother screams, and for a second, Katniss stands there in shock, cradling the burning metal in her arms. A pulse vibrates deep within her, growing with fervor as it quakes toward the surface. She feels hot, and then, with a pop, the energy is gone.

Flames spike around the tea kettle on the stove, nearly singeing the curtains.

"What was that?" Prim says, peeking around the bedroom partition, oblivious to the scene.

Her mother looks at Katniss warily. "Nothing, dear," she says. "Finish getting ready."

Katniss's eyes are pleading.  _What's wrong with me?_  She wants to say, but she's too terrified to say the words.

Her mother reaches out to touch her face, but pulls away at the last moment. Katniss's skin is still burning.

"It's happening," is all she says.

......

Prim's name is called.

It takes a long moment for the words to sink in.

_Primrose Everdeen, age 12, tribute of District 12._

"I volunteer!" she shouts, the words tumbling out before her mind has fully processed it.

She trips over her own feet in her haste to step forward. "I volunteer," she shouts again with more certainty.

The district escort, Effie Trinket looks delighted by the scene, and cheerfully directs the Peacekeepers escorting Katniss through the crowd. "Wonderful, wonderful! A volunteer!" she keeps exclaiming, as if it were the most exciting thing. "And now for the boys," she says once Katniss is on stage and the scene has calmed.

She reaches into the reaping bowl, but something else seems to be holding her attention. She stares off vacantly into the field of eligible boys as her fingers trap a fold of paper. "Peeta Mellark," she reads mechanically off the page.

Katniss's eyes widen as she watches Peeta step forward. Merchant kids never get picked for the Games. It just doesn't happen. The kids from town rarely have to take out tesserae, so their names are only in there seven times at most, while most kids from the Seam have that many entries at 13. Something's not right.

She's too far away to be sure, but over Effie's shoulder she can almost make out the name on the slip. And it isn't Peeta Mellark.

......

She pushes the decadent meal around her plate with the delicate silver tines of her fork. Prelude to a last meal, it should be called.

Across the table, Peeta digs into his pile of food heartily. 

"You're going to get sick," Katniss says in a warning tone. It's the first words she's ever spoken to him.

He stares at her for a long moment, his mouth quirking into an unreadable expression. "You're going to starve," he says plainly. His eyes dip to her plate then back to her. "You should eat."

She spears a gravy soaked potato and begins to chew. When she realizes what she's done, she sets her fork down. She shouldn't talk to him, he's her enemy now, but the question burns at the back of her mind. "Were you surprised?" she says. "Getting reaped?"

He stiffens slightly. "No more than you," he says.

He wasn't reaped though; does he know he wasn't reaped?

Her eyes dance around the room, glancing at the corners of the train car, and around the spectacularly decorated suite. She doesn't know if someone is listening, and she's not sure why she's so paranoid to think it.

Her eyes lock with Peeta again and she stares at him hard. Does he know?

The door slides open before she can get her answer and Haymitch, their mentor, stumbles in. He heads for the wet bar, and makes a scene of clanking lids and scooping up ice. He's drunk, but that's to be expected.

"Our last glimmer of hope, everyone," Peeta murmurs wryly.

"You say something, boy?" Haymitch barks.

Peeta holds his eye for a long moment then looks away. "No, sir."

Haymitch looks smug in his contention, and that's when Peeta says it. "You find the answer to winning in the bottom of that glass?"

Haymitch swirls the liquid in his tumbler, making the ice cubes sing. "You'd be surprised."

......

She can't sleep.

Katniss pushes the silk sheets down the bed with her feet, then lies flat on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. The window to her train car is jammed, and she wonders if that's on purpose.

She wanders through the narrow corridors to the dining car. She's craving something that she can't identify. Her stomach doesn't growl, but her body hungers.

There's a small gas burner beneath the coffee pot that catches her eye. A tiny flame that glows blue instead of red. She's drawn toward it like a moth, and dips a finger into the light to ignite the tip of her nail like a candle.

She flicks another finger and the flame jumps to there, then to the next, bouncing from hand to hand, she's so mesmerized, she doesn't hear movement from the other side of the car.

"So you're one of those, huh?"

She jumps at the sound of Haymitch's voice. He's slumped in one of the lounge chairs beside the bar, an empty crystal bottle hanging lazily from his grasp.

She kills the fire in her palm. "I don't know," she says desperately. "Do you know what it is?"

He stands with much effort, taking a moment to steady himself when he's back on his feet. He chuckles at her gruffly. "This game got a whole lot more interesting," he says cryptically. 

......

The Capitol is more extravagant then she'd ever pictured. The room she's placed in has a wall made completely of glass. It's decorated with plush leather furniture and sleek black tables. Whatever animal made the hide lining the floor, is the biggest she's ever seen.

Servants filter in and out to bathe her, wax her, trim her hair and nails. The woman who braids her hair has six fingers on each hand, and when she has to gather and twist Katniss's hair at an awkward angle; her unnaturally long fingers bend in another direction, completing the style with ease.

Katniss tries not to gawk at all the genetic modifications she sees, but some seem so gaudy. Her prep team is an eclectic bunch, with skin dyed different colors, elongated necks, and chins sharpened into an angular point.

"You could be so beautiful," one whines as they fill in one of her zits with concealer. "How much fun we could have with you."

"Maybe if she comes back," another one says. "We'll have the entire victory tour to play with her."

Katniss feels sick. Feels invisible. Don't they know she can hear them?

The door slides open and her stylist steps through. He introduces himself as Cinna.

"How do you feel about fire?" he asks.

Katniss goes pale.

......

The Girl on Fire, she's called.

If they only knew.

......

Katniss is a decent shot with an arrow, and has spent enough time in the woods to pick up the survival skills she'll need, so the training sessions are somewhat useless. She's smaller than the other tributes though, and should probably be practicing hand to hand combat, but displaying her weaknesses to her predators isn't a strategy she's willing to try.

Most of the tributes only want to play with the weapons, leaving the stations for camouflage, knot tying, and fire building mostly empty. Katniss gathers kindling and carefully sculpts it into a small bundle. She focuses all her energy to her hands and waits.

"You need a spark," the instructor says, flicking a sharpened piece of flint against fire steel. The spark erupts into a giant fireball between her hands.

"Don't use your skills yet," Haymitch chastises her that night. "Don't let them see."

"Why won't you tell me what's going on?" she pleads. "What's happening to me?"

"Not here," he says, his tone warning.

She's fuming now, her fists clenching at her sides. Her entire body hums with hot energy.

"Careful, sweetheart. Know when to watch your temper."

She storms off toward her room, crashing into something solid. Peeta grips her arms to steady her and immediately flinches before releasing her.

"Are you all right?" he says. "Christ, Katniss, why are you so hot?" He shakes out his hands with a hiss. "Do you need a medic? I think you may have a fever."

"I'm fine," she says, but she sounds anything but. "I'm tired, that's all."

"You want to get some air?" he says.

She looks at him skeptically. They haven't left this building since they arrived.

"I know a way onto the roof," he elaborates.

"How?"

He grins at her in an infectious way that leaves her smiling too. "I can be persuasive," he says. "Come with me."

He leads her past the Avoxes quarters to a hidden staircase, which opens to the outside world. "One of the benefits to living on the top floor," he says.

It's not what she expected. At twelve stories up, the wind whips around them violently, lifting her hair in every direction. "It's loud," she shouts.

"Yeah," he says. "It's nice. Like no one can hear you."

 _Like no one can hear_? She narrows her eyes at him.

Peeta steps closer to lower his voice. "Is everything all right, Katniss?"

She stares at him stubbornly.

"Tell me."

She wants to go home. She doesn't want to die. All of this is unfair. There are a million ways to answer him, but her thoughts become too jumbled, and only one thought rises to the surface.

"Something's happened," she says. "Strange things."

"Like what?" he says.

She looks away.

"Like you can control things with your mind?"

Her eyes snap back to his. "What did you say?"

The door to the roof crashes open, revealing a furious Effie. "This area is off limits!" she shrieks. "Downstairs, the both of you! The trouble you would be in if someone else had found you. You should be grateful that I'm so forgiving. Hurry up, now."

Katniss isn't done, but Peeta's already backing away, fixing Effie with an award winning grin to placate her.

She waits for the wind to cool relief into her bones then follows.

......

She bombs the interview, she's just no good at talking. Only mentions of her sister and a few tricks Cinna has her play with his synthetic flames seem to save her.

It's Peeta who steals the show.

He speaks to Caesar Flickerman like they're old friends, and dazzles the entire crowd. Peeta's strong, but he doesn't have any skills that make him impressive. He grew up in town, in a bakery, where the kids are soft because they get full meals and a comfortable place to stay. He's never had to fight for anything the way Katniss has.

Yet, there's something about his way with people that makes him dangerous.

Near the end of his interview, Peeta tips his head toward Caesar and lowers his voice to a comical whisper that can easily be picked up by the microphones. "Can I tell you a secret?" he says. "About Katniss?"

Her blood runs cold and she stands there motionless. She hadn't told Peeta anything, not really, yet somehow she had trusted him. She would have told him everything if Effie hadn't interrupted. She can't believe she was such a fool.

Caesar's eyes are alight as he matches Peeta's posture. "What about her?"

Katniss holds her breath. Heat hums across her skin as her anger takes over.

Peeta looks out to the crowd and then back at him. "She sure looks beautiful tonight," he says sweetly.

"Hate to tell you, kid, but the secret's already out."

Peeta smiles in earnest. "I suppose so," he says. "I tell you though, if I had the chance..." and then he's looking directly into the camera, "I would bet on her."

......

The morning of the launch, Haymitch walks her to her hovercraft.

"Don't go into the cornucopia," he warns her as they say their goodbyes. She listens to him with a sour expression. She's still not sure if she likes the guy, but he seems to know what he's talking about, and it would be stupid to let her pride get in the way. "Get out of there as quickly as you can. You'll have everything you need with you."

As Cinna preps her on the launch pad, he slips a steel bracelet on her wrist. "Your token," he says. "For the Girl on Fire."

The sky opens up above the cave and she's lifted towards the surface.

A minute passes. She runs.

......

The arena is the easy part. Every year the landscape changes. Desert, water, city ruins, arctic tundra, there's no way of guessing what sort of challenges one will face, but this year is the woods. Katniss couldn't have asked for a better arena.

During the day she gathers plants, sets up snares, and searches for water. At night she takes to the trees, and tries to ignore the sound of canons firing.

She hasn't seen another tribute. She knows that she doesn't want to.  _You hunt animals_ , she reprimands herself.  _You can do this too_.

She stays in the trees and waits.

......

When she wakes, the sun has been swallowed by ash. The trees around her crackle. There's fire everywhere. She scrambles to gather her supplies and then takes off on foot, running with the animals towards safety.

This wall of fire isn't movie naturally though. It follows her path, zigzagging through the woods, and soon, it has her circled completely.

Katniss comes to a stop, and watches the flames as they close in on her. It should be hot, but she doesn't feel a thing. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply, unsure of what she plans to do.

She holds her arms out in a bid to tame it, focuses all of her energy outward. The fire swirls upward as if crashing against a wall. She maintains her position, pivoting carefully on her toes to keep track of her surroundings.

She slices an arm through the air to see if the fire will move, but it only closes in on her again. She touches the flames with her palm, absorbing the heat until it burns. There's too much energy for her to handle and she snaps her hand away. She resumes her defensive position.  _Push_ , she tells herself,  _Push!_  She draws her arms in, then they surge out with as much force as she can muster.

The fire ripples outward in ring shaped bursts. A giant explosion with her at the epicenter. The land around her is a charred ruin, but the fire has been extinguished. She did it. She controlled it.

A canon sounds.

And she killed someone.

......

She feels dizzy and sick. Charming the fire took a lot out of her, but it's nothing compared to the sound of the canon, and knowing one of the faces that will shine in the night sky will be because of her.

She stumbles through the clearing in search of water. Most of the forest has been destroyed by her firebomb, meaning she won't be able to last in the wilderness for much longer. Her feet drag through the underbrush and she begs them to lift from the ground. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Left.

Her toe snags on something, and then a weight on her shoulders drops her to her knees. She's been snared by some sort of net. She struggles to reach the knife that's strapped to her thigh, but her arm doesn't reach. What little movement she makes only tightens the binds, so she wills herself to stay still.

That's when she notices her bracelet, forged from steel. All she needs is a spark and she can burn through the ropes. She hits her wrist against the ground, hoping to catch the sharp edge of a rock.

"What have we got here?"

She freezes, then looks up to find the boy from District 1, watching her with a wolfish grin. He spins a spear in his hand idly.

"I found some of your rope toys in the woods. Snares, do you call them?" He says, stalking back and forth like a predator. "And I thought to myself, what a fun idea! The scale was all wrong though. You couldn't catch anything good with those pathetic things." He points his spear toward her, the blade so close that it grazes her cheek. "Now how do you usually finish the rodents off? Through the eye?" He pokes her lightly. "The neck?" The blade is cold against her skin and she whimpers. He draws the spear away. "Decisions, decisions," he says, tapping a finger against his chin.

Another set of footsteps draws near, and Katniss gasps when she sees that Peeta has joined the boy from District 1.

"You're here just in time for the fun part," the boy says.

Peeta's jaw hardens into an unreadable expression as he looks down at her.

"Would you like to do the honors?" District 1 continues. "You made it sound like you wanted to take a poke at her."

She sees the sharp edge of stone pushing through the ground, just out of her reach. She stretches her arm so far, she feels as though it may snap.

"She's all yours," Peeta says, and then drops his voice to whisper something in the boy's ear.

Katniss slaps her hand wildly, cutting the side of her hand instead of the bracelet. Just one more inch.

"Do it," Peeta says.

Katniss braces for an impact that never comes. Instead the boy from District 1 turns the spear on himself, digging the sharpened point deeply into his heart. A canon sounds and he falls lifelessly to the forest floor.

"What was that?" Katniss demands.

The color has drained from Peeta's features and he refuses to look away from his feet.

"Peeta, what did you do?"

He looks over his shoulder. Katniss can hear the footsteps too. One, two, three tributes maybe.

"We've got to get you out of here," he says, looking around in every direction.

Katniss pulls herself forward on her belly enough to strike her bracelet against the rock. On the third try, a spark ignites, and she spreads the flames around the webbed netting until it's weak enough to break apart

"Katniss, I can handle this. Run!" he says.

But it's too late. A brutish figure comes barreling through the clearing wielding a sword whose blade is longer than Katniss's entire body.

"Run!" Peeta repeats.

She stumbles forward a few steps, stopping when she hears Peeta let out an excruciating scream. 

The boy from District 2, Cato, has struck Peeta in the leg. Katniss can't leave Peeta behind. Not after he saved her. She turns back to the smoldering net and revives the fire, pushing it forward to draw the careers away.

"Get behind me," she instructs Peeta, before releasing a burst of energy that spreads a giant wall of fire to barricade them from their enemies.

She flinches when another canon sounds.

"We've got to get you out of here," she says, holding out her hand. Peeta takes it.

......

It's a struggle, but she gets him to the stream she's been using for fresh water, and props him against some rocks.

She washes his wound, ignoring his hisses and barks of protest. The cut is deep. Really deep. Too deep for her to think about. She doesn't know what to do.

"What was that back there?" she asks instead.

"I should be asking you the same thing," he replies.

She looks away while she dumps another canteen of water over his leg. She wants to gag when it runs red and soupy into the stream.

"What did you say to that boy?"

His jaw is tight, teeth clenching to mask the terrible pain he's in. "I told him he should stab himself with the spear," he says plainly.

"And he did," she concludes.

"Yeah. The same way you told that fire where to go."

"How long have you been able to...?"

"Control minds? A couple of months," he says, same as her.

She frowns at the realization. "Is that why Effie called your name? Because you told her to?"

He grimaces when she flushes his wound again. "Yes," he admits.

She looks at him, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "Why?"

He fixes her with a look that she's too shy to hold. "Do I really have to tell you?" he says.

The skin from her chest to her ears burns with a flash of heat.

Heat.

"I think I know how to treat your wound," she says abruptly. "But it won't be pleasant."

"Less pleasant than this?" he asks through gritted teeth after another flush of water.

"Unbearably," she says. She hurries to the edge of the woods to pick up a few sticks. From the first aid kit she swiped from the District 1 boy, she takes out an antiseptic pad. She's got two. One to clean Peeta's wound, and one to sterilize her knife.

Peeta's face turns green as he watches her work. 

"Bite," she says, extending one of her gathered sticks.

He hesitates. "There's honor in dying for a friend," he reasons. "Wouldn't it be easier to walk away? Let me bleed out? It wouldn't be your fault. You're not the one who stabbed me."

"Bite," she repeats.

"Katniss, only one of us is getting out," he reminds her. His eyes turn dark. "Walk away," he commands.

She feels a tickle at the back of her mind, like fingers wrapping around her every thought and shaping them into something else. She can't remember why she's here. Night will fall soon; she needs to be looking for a tree to sleep in.

She blinks. Looks around. Where did Peeta go? He was just there. The stick is still in her hand. She closes her eyes again and shakes her head. "Walk away," he repeats. He's in her head and she can't get him out. She focuses harder. No, no, no, no, no.

She thrusts the stick forward, eyes still shut tight. "Bite," she says adamantly.

Peeta sighs and obeys.

She snaps her bracelet against the rocks and lights her palm, closing her hand around the blade of her knife until it turns white, and then she presses it against his skin. Hard.

......

He passes out.

Reluctantly, she lets him sleep until the sun is setting. They have to find shelter, and he doesn't have the energy required to climb a tree.

"Peeta, wake up," she says, nudging his shoulder.

"Not yet," he says groggily. He takes her hand and pulls her toward him. "In a little bit."

She braces her hand on his chest to keep from crashing into him, but gives in when his arms wrap around her waist.

She's caught off guard by how beautiful he is in this lighting. His wavy blond hair matted around his forehead, the way the sun seems to tangle in his eyelashes and go on forever, his lips parted, soft and pillow-like. 

She leans forward and brushes her lips against his tentatively. His response is immediate and eager. He cups the back of her head and opens his mouth to her, taking control of the kiss when she doesn't know how.

Then it stops as quickly as it began. Peeta pulls away, uncertainty glistening in his gaze.

"I'm not telling you to kiss me, am I?" he says.

Her mind feels fuzzy, clouded, but not like it had when he controlled her before. Still, why had she been compelled to do it? "I don't know," she says.

He sits up to distance himself and musses his hands through his hair. "You wanted to find shelter?" he says coolly. 

"Before it gets dark," she confirms timidly.

They sit there in silence, neither one making a move to leave. In the distance, Katniss catches sight of a bird skimming low above the treeline. She watches it soar above the sky, growing impossibly big as it approaches them.

It's a hovercraft, she realizes. She hadn't heard the canon. The tribute is close, wherever they are, and she's hit with the sudden dread that a predator is close. 

"We need to move," she says, shooting to her feet. She gathers their already packed supplies and helps Peeta up. She tries to gauge the path of the hovercraft, so they can go the opposite way, but it seems to be heading right for them. "That way," she decides on a whim, trying to keep pace with Peeta's limp.

The claw of the hovercraft begins to drop above them. She should be able to see the tribute's body if they're that close, but all that's around them is loose rocks and the shallow stream. She wonders briefly if the hovercraft is after them, right before the metal spokes of the claw paralyze her, and she's lifted from the ground.

......

They're greeted by Haymitch's smug grin. He applauds them as they're dumped to the floor, the feeling takes a few seconds to return to her limbs, and she struggles to stand.

"That was quite the debut you made, sweetheart," he says.

She lunges toward him, rage fueling every fiber of her being. The engines sputter with her wrath, the hovercraft jerking violently. 

A pair of arms wrap around her. Holds steady against her burning skin. "Calm down," Peeta's murmuring in her ear. He's shaking too, he's holding on so tightly. She must be hurting him. "You need to relax," he says firmly. That only makes her angrier, him thinking he can control her. Can tell her what to do. "Please, Katniss. Stop."

She gives up her hold and falls limply to the ground. "What's happening?" she says weakly. "Are the Games over?"

"For you they are," Haymitch replies. "Come on," he adds. "I think I promised you two some answers."

......

They're led to a small compartment with a table and a few chairs. Cinna is there along with a Gamemaker that Katniss vaguely recognizes.

"You know all about genetic modifications," Haymitch starts off.

"I've seen a few," she says flatly.

"Well that was a practice started many years ago. Long before the Dark Days. Except it wasn't used for little fairy wings or to get a better tan, it was to build better workers. Fishermen with gills, lumberjacks with more agility, fireproof coal miners," he says looking pointedly at Katniss. His gaze shifts to Peeta, "Spies who could control minds. But then during the uprising, they realized that making genetically modified super workers, meant they were creating super soldiers for the wrong side, so the program went the way of the jabberjay."

"Only the jabberjays didn't go away," she fills in. "Not really."

"And neither have we."

"We?" she says.

"I noticed Peeta's skill first," Haymitch explains. "It's easy to smell our own. Discovering yours was a happy accident."

"It's a recessive gene-mod that doesn't show up in everyone, and it's nearly impossible to track. Symptoms don't present themselves until well after puberty," Cinna says. "A fire dancer, especially, is very rare. We haven't seen one of your kind in years."

"Not since your father," Haymitch says solemnly. 

"As soon as Haymitch identified you, he notified us in the Capitol, and the rescue mission was arranged."

"Why wait for the Games to start?" Peeta says. "Shouldn't you have done it before? Now all of Panem knows who we are, what we're capable of."

"That was the point," the Gamemaker jumps in. Plutarch Heavensbee. "The Dark Days never ended. It's our turn to take it back."


End file.
